


Whispers Are Louder Than Screams

by KanraKixystix



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Grief/Mourning, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-Umbara, Unconfessed Feelings, implied Fives/Jesse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:01:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25624036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KanraKixystix/pseuds/KanraKixystix
Summary: Jesse just wants a chance to tell Hardcase that he was wrong, he does love him. All he has left though are his own tears and the scent of their sex on his blankets.
Relationships: Hardcase (Star Wars)/CT-5597 | Jesse
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	Whispers Are Louder Than Screams

At night he wakes, suffocating on his own voice as he screams. 

Jesse wonders if Hardcase screamed before he died, if the last thing he saw was something beautiful, or if his last vision is of Jesse leaving him behind to become a sacrificial lamb to the Republic that he swore an oath to protect. 

He’s never wanted to scrub his face raw until he bleeds before, but seeing his reflection in the mirror is a constant reminder that Hardcase is gone. Hardcase is dead, and it’s because they both loved the Republic more than each other. 

Jesse could have stopped him, he should have, or at least, he should have told Hardcase that he meant something more to him than a quick fuck in the storage closet between shifts. Now, Jesse wishes he could scream it at him from the top of his lungs, uncaring of who heard him. He wishes he could kiss the sweet screams from Hardcase’s lips as he spills himself between them. 

He wishes, more than anything, that he could whisper ‘I love you’ just once and not have it laughed off like it’s just something you say after sex. 

Tears stain Jesse’s pillow. He hasn’t bothered to wash it, just flips it over and lets it dry. He deserves to be in pain, he deserves to feel every ounce that Hardcase felt then and more. 

Internally, Jesse screams again, presses his face into the damp spot on his pillow and stars above, he hopes beyond hope that the dip in the bed is Hardcase pressing into him, holding him, telling him it’s okay to breathe. 

The soft brush of a goatee against his cheek tells him it’s Fives. It’s always Fives lately. 

“I’m so sorry, Jesse,” he whispers against his skin and rocks him, and Jesse wails into his pillow harder. “I’m so sorry.” 

Why is Fives sorry? It’s not his fault. Jesse should have stopped Hardcase from coming with them in the first place. He should have begged him harder, should have stayed and died alongside him, because anything would be better than the agony that keeps tearing through him. 

“Shhh, I’ve got you, ori’vod,” Fives murmurs, and there’s another kiss pressed to his skin, and Jesse wants to scream more. Scream at him to stop soothing him. He needs to hurt, he needs to be tortured for letting Hardcase go. 

Instead, he whimpers and clutches at the blanket he stole from Hardcase’s bed before anyone could come and take it. It still smells a little bit like him, and that has to be enough now. It’s not, it might not ever be. 

At least, for now, he can maybe sleep without standing on the other end of the explosion and seeing Hardcase’s lips move in the words Jesse never got to say before he was gone. 

'I love you.'


End file.
